


Amaranth

by ziusura



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Very Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziusura/pseuds/ziusura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every twenty-five years the Immortal Forest showed up with the promise of making one lucky challenger immortal. This year, Allison was determined to win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amaranth

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Amaranth (Art Masterlist)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171202) by [tamiko_unknown (fandomdough)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomdough/pseuds/tamiko_unknown). 



> Written for fandomdough's lovely picture for the [Teen Wolf Reverse Bang](http://twreversebang.livejournal.com). It inspired a lot of different stories, but this is the one that I finished.

Every twenty-five years the Immortal Forest showed up with the promise of making one lucky challenger immortal. No one knew why; it was just one of those magical things about the world. 

There was a story about an immortal queen who created the forest in the shell of her ancient body to try and find her long ago deceased lover in a fit of senility, offering immortality to anyone who could complete her challenges, but Allison didn’t know if she believed it. It made sense, but it made sense in the way that echoes were nothing but the desperate speech of a cursed nymph. 

But it didn’t matter, because Allison was going to win it.

It was easier to think of it as three, than as a series of unknown challenges that she’d likely die during. Three challenges. All Allison had to complete was three challenges. Then she’d be immortal and she’d be able to save Elmwood, no big deal. No big deal at all.

Allison played with the quiver strap over her shoulder, then cursed quietly when she realized that she had overadjusted it. Again. 

Three. She only needed to complete three. 

She took a deep breath and stepped forward. The Immortal forest was nothing like she expected. From the outside it looked like a dome of swirling color, twisting and vibrating in the brisk autumn air. Allison could only guess at what it looked like from the inside. 

“Excuse me!” a female voice called out, and Allison barely stopped in time—red curls brushed Allison’s face, but otherwise there was no contact. The girl was gone in a flurry of purple, and Allison blinked at the space she’d left for a minute or two, trying to build up her nerves again. 

Jesus. _She_ was certainly in a hurry. 

There was more people and more movement closer to the edge of the dome, and the lines to the guide altars were getting longer and longer, so maybe the redheaded girl had the right idea. 

Allison had offerings for Kali (a satchel full arrowheads she’d made herself), and Julia Baccari (some perfumes made out of local plants), but she hadn’t quite chosen which one she wanted to be her guide. Growing up, she’d heard the military conquests of Kali and the tales of her revenge, and of Julia Baccari the botanist, who’d come back and won the Immortal Forest challenge again as her immortal alter ego, Jennifer Blake. Both were people she’d like to have help her through the forest, but she could only choose one, and both their altars likely had long lines and a lot of competition. 

Sure enough, there were at least twenty people in both Kali’s and Julia Baccari’s line, but likely way more; about fifteen people were outside the dome, where Allison could see them, but the altars were inside with the rest of the forest so there was no telling how far the line extended inside. The line for Julia Baccari’s looked smaller, however, so Allison stood in that one. A smaller pool of applicants meant her chances of getting a guide increased, right? 

Allison must have waited an hour before she reached the edge of the dome. Parts of the boy in front of her stuck out of the mass of colors—his butt, left shoulder, and an ankle being the only pieces of him she could see. Then he too fully stepped in, and Allison sucked in a breath. It was her turn. 

Her first steps into the Immortal Forest were careful, measured. The outside may have been something out of a story, but the inside was anything but. It looked like a normal forest, like the one that had once surrounded her village, and Allison didn’t bother to hide the way her shoulders slumped at that. There were birds chirping in the trees overhead, the sounds of critters scampering in the distance, and big, normal trees. But maybe it was for the best that it was so normal; she knew how to handle forests. She couldn’t make a living in Elmwood otherwise. 

The line extended in front of her and curved around a thick group of bushes, so Allison couldn’t tell how many people she was still behind, but she could make out the top of the statue made in Julia Baccari’s likeness. Soon she’d be in the altar and making her plea for Julia Baccari to chose her to represent. 

Well, she would’ve had another statue hadn’t caught her eye. It was impulse alone that made her leave her line, praying hard that she wouldn’t regret it, but she was positive she saw a _smile_ on the statue’s face. A smile! She didn’t know statues of immortals could be anything but fierce and angry.

It was far simpler than the other statues of immortals she’d seen before—just a statue, and a pedestal with a small bowl for offerings further behind it. The statue was nude, Allison was embarrassed to notice, but a marble ribbon wound up his body, covering the important bits. Unlike some of the other statues she’d seen that day, it felt carved with love, not fear or power, and Allison didn’t know how she felt about that. Immortals were powerful; almost all of the ones Allison heard about had won wars and made conquests after winning. Allison had seen pictures and small carvings of immortals, and none of them had been smiling so happily. Smiling while standing on their enemy’s severed head, sure, but none so full of life and love. Allison felt breathless in its presence.

Allison crouched in front of the statue to try and clear the plants threatening to crawl up the bottom of the statue. They came away easy enough and revealed a name at the base. She traced the letters slowly, and though the letters were mostly worn away she could make out, “Scott Mccall.”

She didn’t know of an immortal named that—the name didn’t sound even a little recognizable—but Allison wasn’t too surprised. She heard stories of war heroes and strength; this Scott Mccall was smiling and held a scroll in his hand, not a sword. His open hand was stretched up to the sky, palm up, like he was trying to trust the world, and it made Allison feel naked, like she was ten and still learning about the world and the way it worked.

Scott Mccall had to be naïve. No one opened themselves up like that to everyone, and yet, Allison was curious. She stood up fully, and ran her eyes over the statue’s expression, his open palm. How did a man like that become an immortal?

Allison shoved her hand in her pocket and felt the arrowheads, the small bottles of perfume, but her thoughts weren’t on Kali and Julia Baccari anymore. She hadn’t felt happiness in a long time, and Scott, whoever he was, had gripped her heart and reminded her of just what she was missing.

‘ _Okay, Scott McCall. You win._ ’

She made her way to the altar and lit some incense in the bowl. All she had were gifts made with others in mind, and she didn’t think the arrowheads fit Scott. Why would someone who carried no weapons want some as an offering? There were flowers further back behind the statue, but if someone had showed up to Allison's door with a bouquet from her own garden, she'd have been a little angry. Her options were limited, but hopefully Scott wouldn't mind too much, so with a shrug, she set Julia Baccari’s perfumes into the offering bowl and knelt down to pray.

“Hi, Scott," she spoke aloud. There were some people who worshipped the immortals, but Allison's family didn't, and silent prayers were reserved for Gods. "I’m Allison. I kind of chose you on a whim, but I really don’t think I’ll regret it.” He was smiling. His statue wasn’t frowning or angry or anything. _Smiling_. “Well, I’m good with a bow and arrow, I’ve been hunting since I was a little girl, I can tell most poisonous berries apart…” She felt a little silly, trying to sell herself to a statue. Childhood never really taught her that, that was for sure, and her practised speech was flying out her brain out of nervousness. “And I, um, well that’s me. Please consider being my guide.”

Allison stood up slowly, her legs feeling a little more like jelly than she’d like. All she knew about the Immortal Forest challenge was now exhausted. Did she sleep now? Make a camp? When would she find out if Scott had chosen to be her guide? It was all sort of nervewracking, but she could only do so much, and well, she at least knew how to set up a camp. That would keep her busy for a while.

The moment Allison had stepped out of the clearing, a man about her age appeared in her peripherals in a flash of smoke. At first Allison thought it was one of the other challengers aiming to take out competitors before it had even really started, and she jumped back into an offensive stance, one hand reaching for an arrow. Her fingertips were brushing the fletching when she realized he was _floating_.

“Hi, I’m Scott,” he said, smiling wide, and Allison blinked. 

Scott? Was he…? Her eyes flickered over her shoulder, to where the statue was. 

“Yes,” he laughed, “That Scott.” 

He did have the same uneven jaw, though Allison didn’t think it would be quite so handsome in person—statues tended to exaggerate in ways reality could never compete with. At least he was significantly more clothed. 

“I...already?” she squeaked, then cleared her throat, embarrassed. Allison _really_ didn’t like being caught off guard, especially when Scott was so good looking. 

Scott rocked back on his heels. Well he made the motion like he did; it didn’t quite have the same effect when his weight wasn’t resting on his feet. 

“Yeah. I didn’t actually get any offers last time, y’know? And I liked you so I thought, why wait?” 

Scott’s grin turned sheepish, and he turned away to scratch at his neck. Allison would even say he was blushing, and it made something weird squirm in her stomach. Who knew that the immortals would be so much like _people_? Well, she knew they were people once upon a time, but it was weird hearing all the stories about the immortals growing up, and then seeing them act like anything but. 

“So what’s the first challenge?” she asked, determined to get her mind onto more productive things. Might as well get started while everyone was still in line if she wanted a head start.

“Oh!” Scott said excitedly, and turned back around to face her. His loose clothing rippled with the movement, and Allison wondered if he was tangible, even if he could float and teleport. “You’ve got to catch this bunny rabbit with a purple tail.”

That should be a piece of cake then. Allison was confident with her bow and she’d been shooting rabbits for food and fur since she was ten. 

As if Scott know what she was thinking, he poofed closer to her and rested his hand on hers where it was wrapped around the grip of her bow, shaking his head no all the while. Definitely tangible; his hand felt hot and huge over hers. 

“Weapons won’t work,” he said softly, like he was pitying her, and Allison flexed her hand underneath his. She didn’t want his pity.

“Why not?” 

Scott pulled his hand back and grinned, and Allison bit back a smile. His smiles were so darn infectious. 

“Like me, they’re a part of this forest, and I guess they don’t like weapons—they disappear in a cloud of smoke if one comes too close.”

Allison bit down a sigh. She supposed she could trap them, but she’d never had the skills her mother had at it, and she didn’t have any rope with her. 

“Well how did you do it?”

The sheepish grin was back, and Scott said, “We—my buddy and I—were tracking one, and he tripped over a stick and landed on top of it. Guess they didn’t count his bony elbows as a weapon.”

Yup, still on the trapping plan. Her luck was not good enough—or poor enough—to actually fall on top of a rabbit. 

“Um, well do you know if there’s any tall weeds or something I could use as rope anywhere?”

“Let me check—Stiles!”

Scott turned away to whistle at the thicker part of the forest. Allison didn’t know what to expect, but a hawk bursting out of the trees and settling on Scott’s raised arm, was definitely not it. His hands on the bird were soft and gentle, and the bird ate it up, nuzzling into Scott’s jaw and nipping softly at Scotts fingers whenever they got too close to its beak. Scott leaned in close to it and whispered, and the bird seemed to pay attention to him. 

Eventually Scott lifted his arm again and the hawk flew into the air with a powerful beat of its wings. 

“Okay, we’re going to follow him,” Scott said, and he immediately turned to do so. 

Allison swept the area with her eyes, before catching up to Scott and the hawk. The forest was already shutting down some of her best skills, and this was just the first challenge.

* * *

“So how come I never heard any stories of you?” Allison asked, keeping her eye on the hawk leading the way. 

Scott sped up until he was hovering right next to Allison. “Um, well. I was a poet. After, I mean. Before I became immortal I was in training to be a medicine man.”

“A poet,” Allison deadpanned, and stifled a laugh. 

“Yeah!” Scott said excitedly, and then cleared his throat. “Oh, Allison! With her pale, snowy skin and cheeks the color of amaranth petals; she steals my breath away like a soul sucking beast. Oh, how I adore Allison.” 

He finished with an exaggerated bow, and Allison adjusted her grip on her bow to clap a few times. The hawk leading the way cawed in a strange way, like he was laughing, and Allison didn’t know how to feel about that.

“No wonder I didn’t hear about you.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott’s voice sounded affronted, but his eyes were soft and his body was loose, comfortable. Allison was surprised to find that she was too. It’d been awhile since she felt so happy and comfortable.

“You’re a terrible poet.”

Scott didn’t bother to deny it. 

“I really was.”

* * *

There was a girl in the field the hawk led them to, and Allison immediately tensed. She wasn’t ready to take out another competitor, to kill another _human being_ , but apparently her head start hadn’t been as much of one as she thought. 

Scott noticed her too, but had a completely different reaction. 

“Oh! We should ask for her help.” 

Allison’s hand paused halfway to her quiver. “Ask for help? But she’s against us.” 

She hadn’t always hunted alone back in Elmwood, but she was under the impression that it was every person for themself in the Immortal Forest. They had guides if they needed help. 

But Scott had said that a _buddy_ had fallen on top of the rabbit they were chasing. The smile on his statue must not have just been for his personality. 

“Well, I guess. But it’s easier to catch the rabbit with more skills to offer, and you want to make a net, right? Well weaving a net is easier with two than one. You can share a rabbit so you don’t need to catch more than one.” 

Allison looked over at the girl’s form. She hadn’t seemed to notice Allison yet, and if Allison listened closely she could hear some muffled swears coming from that area. She was struggling with something, so maybe Allison would have something to offer. 

“If I get killed I’m going to haunt you,” Allison said, finally, and Scott’s eyes went hooded and dark. 

“You won’t, I promise,” he said, but he seemed almost distracted about it. That wasn’t particularly reassuring, but Allison smiled at him anyway. 

The girl bolted straight up with her hand around the hilt of a knife when Allison neared. She didn’t blame her; Allison would’ve done the same thing in her circumstances. 

“Whoa!” Allison said, and tried to be as non-threatening as possible. The girl had bright red hair in curls, and was wearing a purple outfit designed more for style than comfort or function. 

“You!” Allison said, and then covered her mouth with her hands. 

“Me?” the girl asked with a delicate eyebrow raised. Her hands lowered slightly though, and Allison tried not to be too obvious about watching the knife move. 

“You, uh, almost ran into me outside the dome,” Allison said. 

The girl seemed almost embarrassed about it, but she covered it up well, taking one hand off the knife to flick her hair over her shoulder. She was still in a defensive pose, so Allison didn’t lower her guard just yet.

“Well, the lines were getting long.”

“Yeah, um, look. I think we can help each other with this rabbit problem.” 

“Do you?” The girl looked unimpressed, but Allison was sort of hoping it was all a show. 

“Yeah,” Allison’s eyes glanced at the grass at their feet. The girl had been trying to make a net out of the tall grass—just like Allison planned, but couldn’t seem to get the knots right. “I can make nets.” 

The girl relaxed almost fully, and Allison nearly sighed in relief. The girl wasn’t completely unsuspicious though, and asked, “What’s in it for you?”

Allison shifted onto her other foot, and Scott mumbled some words of encouragement in the distance. “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

The girl sighed deeply, and took a deep breath. Allison was expecting words, but instead a soft chirping noise came out instead. “That’s a rabbit noise. I’m an actress—I can throw my voice as well.” 

Allison put her hand out to shake, a wide smile on her face. “Allison,” she said. 

The girl slid the knife back into a sheath at her belt, and grabbed Allison’s hand. “Lydia.” 

Scott cheered in the distance, and Allison let pride swell in her chest.

* * *

It turned out that Lydia was well read and knew how to make the knots required, but didn’t quite have the technique down for anything other than rope. It was a quick fix for Allison, and soon they had two nets complete—one for each of them. The grass wasn’t particularly strong, and if they weren’t careful the rabbit could easily chew through it, but it would work well for their purposes. 

Catching the rabbit was a completely different story. Scott said that there were versions of the rabbit that were diurnal and nocturnal, so they weren’t limited by anything but their own exhaustion and eyesight. It took some time, but they managed to find a place full of rabbit tracks, and they climbed into the tree to hide themselves while Lydia made her rabbit calls. After an hour of that, a rabbit appeared and they dropped their nets. In the wee hours of the morning, they had finally caught their first rabbit—a small black thing with a bright purple tail. 

“So what do we do now?” Allison asked as Lydia cooed at the rabbit in her arms. In the background, Scott hadn’t stopped gushing about how impressed he was with their rabbit catching skills.

Lydia blinked and scratched at the rabbit’s ears. “Your guide didn’t tell you?”

Allison glanced at Scott, who gave her a thumbs up. “Not yet.” She had no doubt he would if she asked, but Lydia was already right there with the answer.

“Oh, well, apparently the rabbit starts producing this shiny liquid when it’s happy. We’re supposed to eat that.” 

Allison wrinkled her nose. There were only three places something could be produced in enough volume to consume, and she didn’t like the idea of any of it coming out of any of them. 

Lydia echoed the movement and said, “I try not to think about that.”

* * *

Lydia and Allison settled in an area a little ways away from where they caught the rabbit. They wanted to be close enough to be able to catch another if they needed to, but didn’t want to be right there in case another competitor found it. 

Allison held the rabbit this time, and its fur was way softer than anything she had ever felt. It would probably catch a good price in Elmwood’s fur trade, but if weapons couldn’t be used on the rabbit they’d have to go through some unconventional means to get it.

“So why are you competing?” Lydia asked, likely making small talk to keep herself awake while they tried to make the rabbit happy. It was nearer to dawn than to evening, and Allison barely kept herself from yawning at the thought. 

Scott settled down next to Allison to scratch the rabbit’s belly with his usual smile, and Allison’s stomach swooped at the solid heat his body next to hers created. She tried to squash it down; a crush on an immortal during a challenge she was likely to die in? Not her best idea. 

“My village is at war with another over land,” Allison said. It was a bit more dire than that; she was one of four people under the age of twenty, but she kept that to herself. Anyone who beat the Immortal Forest and became immortal got a wish, and she was competing for that.

“Ah! So do you have Kali?” 

“Oh, no. I have Scott.” 

Allison glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but he was still just playing with the rabbit. 

Lydia seemed to know about as much about him as Allison did, which was to say: nothing. 

“He was a poet I guess. I was going after Julia Baccari, actually, but his statue had this smile and I just couldn’t look away.” 

Scott bumped his shoulder into hers purposefully, and whispered, "My smile, hunh?" Allison felt a blush rise in her cheeks, but she refused to acknowledge it, not letting her eyes move off of Lydia.

“Oh. I did the same thing. I wanted Jennifer Blake—she won for a second time just because she could, and I wanted to win for me too, but I was drawn to Peter.” Lydia looked over her shoulder, where Allison assumed her guide was. “The garden around his altar was beautiful, and I was intrigued because I’d never heard of him. He was an advisor to a king, so it’s weird that I hadn’t.” 

When Allison looked over at Scott he was still petting the rabbit, but absentmindedly. He was staring at something over Lydia’s shoulder too with a frown on his face, but he didn’t elaborate when Allison knocked her knees into his. And it might have been stupid on her part, but she left her knee against his. 

Scott looked at their knees, then at Allison, and happiness bloomed on his face. Allison couldn’t help but smile back. 

She could see herself leaning over, maybe touching his arm where the hawk had landed earlier, and brushing a kiss to his cheek. She could claim it was a thanks for being her guide as a backup if she needed to. 

But she didn’t get to, because Lydia was jumping up and pointing at the ground between them. 

Allison looked down, and oh. _Oh_! The rabbit! It was making all these content noises under Scott’s fingertips, and a silver substance was spilling out from underneath its fluffy tail. 

“Well what are you waiting for?” Lydia asked, already poised with a drinking cup she had on her person. “Drink it!”

Allison reached into her satchel to pull out a small wooden bowl, and quickly, just in case the rabbit stopped...silver-ing. 

They both got a little liquid into their containers, just enough to cover the bottom, and let the rabbit go because Scott said that they didn’t need much—just a drop. Lydia pulled out a few berries that Allison recognized to be poisonous and smashed them into the ground anywhere the silver had spilled. 

When Allison shot her a look, she shrugged and said, “If it only takes one drop.”

Lydia lay back onto the ground and lifted her cup into the air. “Cheers,” she said, and tipped the cup into her mouth, and just like that, she was out. 

Allison swallowed. Lydia looked _dead_ , and Allison wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She turned to Scott, who was chewing on his thumb and looking at Lydia too. 

“Don’t worry, she still has a pulse,” he said, and Allison changed her grip on the bowl. Scott looked so solemn and worried, and it was unsettling. He had been so cheerful up until then. “This is one of the hardest parts of the challenge. Some people never wake up, so I need you to listen to me.” 

Allison nodded her head and steeled herself for what he was going to say. 

“Don’t stay in one spot,” he continued. “Just let everything flow through you because if you don’t, you won’t get out, and I want you to get out.” 

“Why do this at all then? What’s so important about this sliver stuff?” 

“There’s only one amaranth flower in the forest, and without being connected to the forest you will never find it.” 

“You couldn’t just trip and fall on that too?” Allison joked, trying to ease the tension in her hands. 

Scott quirked a grin, breaking the air of seriousness he’d had until then. Good, Allison wouldn’t know what to do if he continued to be so solemn. She wasn’t dead yet, and she planned to get that amaranth flower. 

“No, now drink up! And save a sip for me.” 

Allison took a deep breath and brought the bowl up to her mouth. She took two deep swallows, leaving a small amount in the bottom like Scott asked, and passed it over. For it having come out of the rabbit’s butt area, it didn’t taste half bad. It didn’t taste good either, nearing something akin to flour and water, but Allison didn’t immediately want to spit it up so that was reassuring. 

The last image in her head before she completely blacked out was of Scott making a face at the silver stuff.

* * *

Images from her past flew in front of her eyes, slamming her with her own emotions until her bones ached and her muscles felt raw. 

‘ _Don’t stay in one spot_ ,’ she chanted in her head. ‘ _Just let everything flow through you_.’ 

She watched pictures of her mom giving her her first bow, her dad showing her how to make an arrowhead, her first hunt, her first kill, and then _bang_. Fear hit her so hard she lost her grip on Scott’s mantra.

* * *

She was eleven, and still inexperienced on her hunts. She’d been tracking a deer she’d shot over an hour ago, and adrenaline was running high in her veins. Allison couldn’t wait to bring home fresh meat and fur to the village, to contribute her worth just like the others. 

It was growing dark, and her legs were getting tired from walking, her arms from holding up her bow. She didn’t see the edge of the cliff until it was too late.

The ground dropped out from under her, and the air was moving too fast out of her lungs for her to scream. Allison swung her bow out frantically, while her tunic pulled up in the back where her body was scraping the side of the cliff. She couldn’t die here; she didn’t want to die. 

Her body jerked back and her head slammed into the rocks of the cliff behind her. Her bow had caught something, and relief pooled into her stomach, but not for long. Allison was halfway down the cliff, something warm and wet was trickling down the back of her neck, and the drawstring dug into the uncalloused meat of her fingers. Even if the string stayed attached to the rest of the bow, she likely wouldn’t be able to keep her grip on it for much longer. 

The bow groaned under her weight, and Allison was so so scared. Eleven years old and she was going to die from being careless. 

“Allison!” a voice called, and Allison blinked open her eyes. Tears stuck to her lashed and her eyes burned, but she kept them open. 

“Allison!” 

She turned her head to try and locate the voice, and saw a man floating underneath her. His brown skin and uneven jaw seemed so familiar. 

“Allison,” he said softly, and he held out his hand in front of her. “You know how this story ends.” 

Allison swallowed, and the drawstring cut into her fingers more. A knotted rope flew down and hit her in the shoulder. When she looked up away from the man underneath her, she saw her dad’s face over the cliff edge. He didn’t seem to notice the floating man, and he was trying to coax her up the rope. 

“That’s it, Allison, remember,” the man below her said, and Allison jerked her eyes back down. “Now grab my hand.”

“Scott,” she sighed, and she took his hand.

* * *

Allison was in the black again, images and scenes jumping in front of her eyes, but this time she had Scott. She squeezed his hand softly, and Scott shot her a smile. 

“Don’t stay in one spot,” she whispered, anything louder seemed so strange in this world, and Scott opened his mouth to say something back.

 _Bang_.

* * *

They were in a village. The air smelled of smoke and ash, and red burnt hot in the forest behind some abandoned huts. There was so much noise—shouting voices and pained screams, and Allison wanted to crouch down and cover her ears, but Scott’s hand in hers kept her grounded.

He seemed agitated. Scott had covered his mouth with his open hand and was looking at every person who’d passed, pulling her along to get a better look if he had to. 

“Scott,” she said, and he jumped.

Scott pulled his hand away from his mouth and let it lay limp at his side.

“Sorry...I-I don’t recognize anyone here,” he said, and Allison quirked her lips to the side.

“Well, of course not,” Allison said, and she ran her thumb across his knuckles in an attempt to soothe their tense grip. “It’s my village.” 

Tension drained out of Scott’s body, and he brought his hand back up to his mouth, this time trying to hide his relieved smile. 

“Right—I’m sorry. I haven’t seen mine in...” he trailed off, and bit his bottom lip. Allison didn’t push it. Immortals could stay on earth until the point where they were meant to have died before heading to the Immortal Realm, but she never thought someone who could live forever would make the face Scott was wearing. They must live a lonelier life than anyone thought.

Loud booming shots echoed in the air, making Allison’s body thrum. Her village didn’t have cannons, so she knew exactly whose screams she was hearing. 

She hadn’t realized she’d crushed Scott’s hand until his thumb stroked the backs of her fingers. 

“When is this?” Scott asked, and Allison sucked in a breath. 

“The day I left for the Immortal Forest.” 

Scott made a comforting noise. “Mine too—I mean mine looked like this too. From plague. The only thing you’re missing is the smell of burning bodies.” 

Allison pressed in closer to Scott, wanting it more than she needed it, and looked out over the forest, where smoke was billowing out from the tops of trees. It made the sky so dark she couldn’t tell if it was night or day, but she knew from her memory that it was early morning. 

“War for me,” she said. “The animals left the surrounding forests, and in fighting for the only piece of land with life, we’ve destroyed everything it’d meant to us.” 

Her village was losing that war, but even if they’d won all they’d get is a burnt out piece of unsustainable land. That was why she had to become immortal—her immortal wish could save them. 

“Are you ready to leave?” Scott asked.

Allison closed her eyes and breathed in the ash. When she opened them again she was back in the black.

* * *

_Bang._

* * *

They were back in the forest again, and Allison sighed in relief. No more painful memories to unearth the way the silver stuff did. It appeared to have dropped them off in a random section of the forest because Allison didn’t recognize the area and she didn’t have her bow, but that was okay. Maybe she’d ask Scott to call for his hawk again to search them out. 

She turned to Scott, excited to finish her challenge, but instead of his usual dimpled smile, his brows were furrowed and he was staring off at something in the distance. Allison’s words died in her mouth, and she looked away. She tried her best to see what Scott was seeing, but couldn’t quite make anything out in the darkness between the trees. That is until a tall, lanky boy with barely any hair darted out into the area where she and Scott stood. 

Allison reached for her quiver on instinct, then realized that she didn’t have it when she grasped at nothing. Dread hit her harder than she expected at that fact, because she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to die right at the beginning of her third challenge—when she’d already completed two thirds of what she needed to.

“Scott,” she said desperately, and tried to tug him along, but Scott wouldn’t move. She needed to find a weapon, find her bow, but Scott just stared at the other boy until the boy looked Scott right in the eye and ran away from them. Then Scott did the unthinkable: he let go of her hand to chase after him.

Allison fell onto her knees and gasped at the overwhelming wrongness she felt being there. She wasn’t in the Immortal Forest, not at all, but this wasn’t her memory either. It was Scott’s. 

“Scott!” she cried out, and took a deep breath to try and ease the tremors wracking her body. How had Scott made it seem so easy in her first memory? It was so painful fighting her way in, but she took another breath and stood up.

Scott was only a little farther ahead, and Allison knew she was fast. She could catch up if she focused on the way her feet hit the forest floor and the burn in her lungs as she sucked in breath after breath, instead of the way her body felt in Scott’s memory. 

“Scott!” she tried again, but Scott didn’t react. His feet were touching the ground as he ran, like he couldn’t remember that he could float in that forest. 

He caught up to the other boy when they came up to a clearing, and Allison nearly lost her footing when Scott grabbed his shoulder and they pulled each other into a laughing hug. They were friends, or at the very least liked each other. 

Who was this boy to Scott? A friend? His first kill? The significance of the memory didn’t make sense to Allison. 

Allison reached the edge of the clearing and saw what they’d been smiling about. In the center was the amaranth flower. 

It startled Allison, that that was what it looked like—just a normal flower in the ground—and without the need to run anymore she immediately lost her focus dropped to the ground in pain again.

“Race you,” she heard the lanky boy say through her heavy breaths, and Scott laughed again. 

“You bet,” he answered, and they both started running again. 

Allison let her eyes fall shut. She could do this. She could stand again, and go get— _schlick_.

Her eyes jerked open again, and her breath caught in her throat. She knew that sound pretty intimately—just a little deeper sounding than when one of her arrows pierced a small animal. 

“Stiles!” she heard, a painful screeching sound that could only have belonged to Scott even if it did sound more like an animal, and Allison propelled forwards. She needed to help him, needed to save him because no one should ever sound like that. 

A sob ripped through the air, and foreign grief dug deep into her bones. The source may not have been hers, but she felt it all the same and Allison wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and cry with Scott. But she couldn’t. She dug her fingers into the dirt and pulled herself forward against the onslaught of grief and pain and distress. 

Scott was leaning over the body when she reached him, a javelin sticking out the boy’s back. Whoever that belonged to would be there soon enough, but that didn’t matter. Scott was the one who ended up immortal; she already knew he’d won. 

“Scott,” she said, and grabbed his ankle. The feelings intensified, but the pain decreased, and Allison pressed into the touch. 

“Scott, you already know how this ends,” she said, trying her best to remember what Scott told her on the cliff. “It’s okay.”

Scott turned away from the body, snot and tears smeared across his face, and stared right at Allison. Allison tightened her grip around his ankle. 

“Take my hand, Scott,” she said, and came up onto her knees so she could extend her other hand towards him. After wiping his face, he did.

* * *

They didn’t return to the black this time. When Allison opened her eyes she was staring at the sky, floating globes of light twirling in the air above her. 

She didn’t think twice before sitting up and pulling Scott to her chest and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He was quiet about it, but her clothes were getting wet so she knew he was crying. 

Shortly after, Scott turned his head so he was just resting his head against her, rather than digging into her for comfort. “Thanks,” he choked out, his voice hoarse, and Allison swallowed back her own set of tears. 

“You must think I’m such a bad guide,” he mumbled, and Allison lifted her hand to card her fingers through his hair. 

“I-I didn’t mind,” Allison said, and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. She didn’t, was the thing. She should mind, should mind _plenty_ because it was his inability to follow his own advice that almost made her lose the challenge, but she didn’t. Her gut churned when she realized why.

“I like you,” she said, deciding to get it out in the open if her chances of ever seeing Scott after this were anything to go by. She didn’t go after Scott for her village or for the immortal challenge, but because she didn’t want to see Scott in pain. 

Scott froze in her arms, and she let him pull away from her. She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to—” she started, but was cut off by a pair of lips on her own. Warmth surged through her body, and she tried to reel him impossibly closer by his hair. 

He pulled back, smiling even though his eyes were red rimmed, and rested his forehead against hers. “I like you too,” he said, and Allison pulled him into another kiss. 

“Okay,” she said against his mouth. “We have to go start the third challenge,” she added, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from Scott. 

“Right,” he answered, and he at least was able to do the deed after stealing a last kiss, pushing her shoulders back until they separated. 

“Time to find that amaranth plant,” he said, and stood up before either of them could do any different. 

The forest looked different now, Allison realized. Everything was bright and lit up in different colors, the glow of the sunrise bending the colors into different patterns across the forest floor. It mirrored what the dome looked like on the outside. 

Lydia was still sleeping, or whatever it was, and Allison was dismayed to find that someone _had_ tried to lick up some of the spilled silver drops. She didn’t want to check for a pulse, content to pretend he was sleeping like Lydia. 

“C’mon!” Scott called, and Allison bit down a smile, and followed him out of the area she and Lydia had chosen. 

The glowing lights that had once been in the air formed a column around her, and Allison realized they must have been showing her the way. She really was connected to the forest now, wasn’t she?

* * *

“Stiles was the name of your hawk, wasn’t it?” Allison asked, pulling herself up over a large tree root. She’d go a different way if she had had the choice, but she wasn’t sure the lights guiding her would adjust or not.

“Yes,” Scott answered slowly. “He’s just as immortal as I am only…” he trailed off and pulled forward ahead, unwilling to talk about it any more. Allison could fill in the blanks though. Stiles wasn’t _human_ , not anymore.

* * *

“You weren’t a poet, were you?” The plague was the clue. Well, that and Scott’s inability to string a poem together. 

“No,” Scott said, but he was laughing unlike the last time she’d asked a question. “I was supposed to have died six hours before I got the amaranth, so I was instantly immortal.” 

“That explains your poem.”

“That came from my heart!” Scott called from somewhere behind her, and even know she knew he could just poof himself to wherever she was, she tried to run ahead just for the thrill of him chasing her.

He caught up easily.

* * *

“Well, this is it for me I think,” Scott said when they reached a tall cliff. The lights ran up the side of it, and Allison bit her lip thinking about what she would have to do to get to the amaranth if it was way up there. 

“What?” she asked, and when she turned she saw why. Scott was sticking his hand out and trying to walk forward, but it was like an invisible barrier was keeping him out. 

“Probably to keep you from pushing me up,” Allison said, and looked up the cliff. She couldn’t even see the top of it, clouds blocking her view. She didn’t remember the dome going up that high, so the inside had to be bigger than it looked. 

Scott whistled, and that didn’t really do anything to calm her nerves. 

“Can I get a good luck kiss?” she asked, trying to hold back the _goodbye_ threatening to spill from her mouth. Allison would win this, she was determined to. And then she’d spend her remaining time on earth with her family in a warless Elmwood, until she could join Scott again in the Immortal Realm. 

“Of course,” Scott said, a bittersweet smile on his face, and Allison didn’t like that at all, so she walked forward until she could kiss it off his face. It was a slower, sweeter kiss than they’d shared so far, but it had to be. Allison was trying to put all of her feelings, all of her fears into one final movement, and Scott returned with his own that Allison tried her best to understand. 

_Do well._

_Win this._

_I believe in you._

_I love you._

“I’ll see you soon,” Allison whispered against his mouth, and took a step back, effectively cutting him off. 

Scott shot her a thumbs up and smiled and smiled until she turned her back and faced the cliff. 

The last challenge was almost complete, and nothing was going to stop her. 

The first part was the hardest. Her fingertips weren’t used to pulling her up, and her legs too new to it all to know how to keep her weight on small slivers of rock, but she did it. For Elmwood, for herself, for Scott. She did it. 

By the mid-section her muscles were screaming and her body was trembling with the force it took to keep her up, but it wasn’t a new feeling. She’d fought off the same thing in Scott’s memory, and she had prevailed there. 

It was at that point that she realized that the lights didn’t go all the way up to the top of the cliff. They stopped about halfway up, circling around a ledge big enough for a person to lie on. 

Allison was so close, so darn close, and her fourth or fifth wind it had to be, hit her. She pulled herself up onto the ledge with shaking arms, and almost froze when she saw what was in the center of it. Undisturbed and still completely _there_ , was the amaranth flower. 

First. She’d made it there first. Relief hit her like a glass of cold water.

She grabbed the amaranth and yanked up, panting. It gave away easier than she thought, and Allison nearly sent herself flying backwards off the cliff with her momentum, but she regained her balance, and stood up on the ledge with her back against the wall. 

For a moment she stared at the stem of the plant in disbelief. Had she really done it? Beaten the immoral challenge? Allison laughed helplessly, even more so when the flower dissolved in her hands and a glowing woman appeared in front of her. 

“Congratulations,” she said, her voice sounding closer to wind rustling through leaves than anything else, and Allison just couldn’t stop laughing. 

The woman didn’t seem phased, however, and continued. “Young one, what is your wish?” 

Allison bit into the meat of her palm, right where the amaranth had been, and tried to control herself. “I-” she started, and had to pause to take a deep breath. “I would like the forests around Elmwood to be restored with life.” 

“That is your wish?” The woman asked, and Allison nodded her head. “Then it is done.” 

Light enveloped Allison, encasing her in a fluorescent glow. Her bones felt light, her muscles no longer worn, and it was at that point she realized she was floating. Like Scott. 

Wow, she really was immortal now.

“Your time of death is in one hour. Reason for death is cannon debris in a forest just outside of Elmwood.” 

With that, the woman disappeared, and Allison felt heavy again. Her feet touched the ground, and her body felt so dense she didn't think the air could hold her up again, and her entire body fell to the ground. 

War. She died in war. Allison wasn’t quite as bad as Scott, but only an hour more on earth? She wasn’t ready for the Immortal Realm, but she had to be. There was still one place to go.

* * *

She fell into the lush grass with a muffled curse; her elbow had landed on a small stone and her funny bone was not laughing. Elmwood, she was in Elmwood.

The forest was green again, and she could hear birds for the first time in years. Warmth flooded her body, and Allison barely kept herself from jumping into the air in joy. It _worked_. Her wish worked. 

She didn’t have time to stop and enjoy it, however. The clock was ticking and she needed to stop the war while she could. 

Allison spotted her dad near the edge of the forest with a couple of the village elders, all staring in wonder at what they thought they’d lost. 

“Dad!” she called out, and he whipped around immediately. 

She was in his arms in an instant, pulled into a tight hug, and Allison relaxed into it as long as she could. Her dad needed this just as much as she did. 

He pulled back eventually to push her hair out of her face and stare. Allison didn’t comment on his shaking hands. 

“I’m sorry...your mom.” He stopped there, tears welling up in his eyes, and Allison shook her head. She thought she knew why Scott looked like he did when he saw her village now; immortals didn’t get to move on. She would never see any of her family again outside of her own memories. 

“It’s okay,” she said, trying to be brave when she felt anything but. “I’m here,” she added, and wasn’t nearly able to keep her voice from shaking. 

It was her _mom_. 

Her dad swallowed, and Allison watched the entire column of his throat work before she grabbed his arms and pulled him back into the hug.

* * *

They called a council with the village across the woods, Blue Rock, sending their youngest and most agile village member, a girl of ten, with the message. They met in the center around a large tree with scars in its bark keeping the memories of the battle they’d waged there. 

Her dad was acting as their village leader, and Blue Rock’s looked younger and just as worn, aged by death and responsibility. No one won a war, and seeing the face of both sides solidified that. Both were just as eager to resume the relations they had before the war, and Allison was thrilled and relieved to see it. The forest could support both villages again, for however long they lasted. 

Allison’s arms and legs started to tingle just as Blue Rock retreated, and she knew her time was up. She’d saved her village, and now it was time for her to go to where she belonged.

“Goodbye, dad,” she said, and she hugged him for the last time, trying her best to keep the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes at bay. “I love you,” she whispered into his neck, and she barely heard his reply before her vision went dark.

* * *

When she came to she was looking up into warm brown eyes and a smiling face, and her face broke out into an answering grin. 

“Scott,” she said, and Scott leaned down to eat up his name. His hands came up to cup her face, and his thumbs wiped away the tears across her cheeks. 

“Welcome home, Allison,” he whispered, and Allison let herself be pulled into his comforting embrace.


End file.
